Facebook
by pretend-to-care
Summary: Arthur is doing research and Eames wants to...well, not help...  Pointless oneshot, no slash, may not make sense if you don't understand Facebook. Rated a little high just to be safe. R&R!


**Disclaimer: None of these peeps belong to me. BUT SOMEDAY...nah, it's not gonna happen. **

**A/N: I have absolutely no idea what anyone's last or first names are, but according to the unreliable source I used, they are as shown. Just roll with it. **

* * *

"Hello, darling."

Arthur closed his eyes and heaved a sigh as Eames came up behind him, putting his hands on his shoulders and shaking him a little harder than necessary. "Hello, Eames."

"What are we up to this fine evening?"

"Research."

"Ahh, research, yes. On…Facebook."

"Yes."

"Very professional."

Arthur threw a glance over his shoulder. "Hey. It works. It's low-key. That's what's important, right?"

"I suppose." Eames jolted Arthur's chair once and then stepped around to his side. "So everyone has a Facebook? Really?"

"Most people. Most of the people we need, at least."

"Well they must be complete idiots, then. They're all willing to broadcast the fact that they've had training in mental security?"

"No, Eames, only you would be dumb enough to do that," Arthur smiled. "For that information we get a little more high-security than Facebook."

"Oohoo, get a load of Artie and his high security," Eames said. "So what _do_ you find out from this thing?"

"I learn about the target. I gather simple facts about their personality and social life, and that helps me understand how their mind works, which, of course, is the whole point of…Eames, you asked. Stop yawning."

"Well I wasn't expecting a full-length novel," Eames remarked.

Arthur rolled his eyes and closed the window. "I'll be right back, I need to grab a couple files from Cobb's desk. Don't touch anything, Eames, I mean it."

"Naturally," the forger said, holding up his hands.

As soon as Arthur was out of the room, Eames took a seat.

He opened the laptop back up and pulled up an internet window. Queuing up Facebook, Eames smiled.

Arthur had conveniently forgotten to log out.

With curiosity, Eames noticed that Arthur's name wasn't Arthur. Rather, it was Tanisha Carr. He clicked to Arthur's profile and burst into laughter. He had to admit, Arthur was pretty attractive. Instead of a picture of his skinny, dark-haired friend, there was a snapshot of a tan, curvy, blonde woman.

"Just lovely, darling. You've really blossomed."

Still chuckling, Eames cheerfully scrolled down Arthur's home page, skimming all the notifications. "Seven hundred and thirteen friends, eh, Arthur?" he murmured. "You get around."

To his surprise, Cobb was one of those friends. So was Yusuf—the chemical-mixing, somnacin-den-running desert-dweller. Maybe it was time Eames got himself one of these.

And then he saw it. His golden opportunity.

'**Ariadne Porter** will be eternally grateful that she majored in architecture.'

Eames broke into a grin and clicked on her name. It took him to her Wall. Oh, what to post? The possibilities were endless. It had to be something brilliant, something absolutely showstopping.

The forger pressed his fingertips together and rested his chin on his thumbs, thinking hard. Suddenly it came to him. First, however, he would need to make a few adjustments.

Eames perused Arthur's files until he found a suitable picture. He himself had taken this one just last year. Arthur was out like a light on the couch, hair disheveled, mouth open, a small amount of drool dripping onto the pillow, arms flung up above his head. Quickly he uploaded it and swapped the picture of the blonde for this one.

With only a few clicks of the mouse, Eames had fixed Arthur's name and returned to Ariadne's Wall.

A minute later, finished, he pressed 'send' with a mischievous grin on his face.

'**Arthur Callahan** Ariadne, I am deeply and desperately in love with you. I had never seen the sun until I looked upon your beautiful face. You are an angel walking this earth, sent to rescue my soul from this mortal pit of utter despair. Make me the happiest man in all the world and marry me, dearest Ariadne, I beg you. Otherwise there is no hope for me in this world and I may as well end my life.'

He also added an event. 'Arthur Callahan's wedding or potential suicide: on Thursday'

"And may your seven hundred and thirteen friends see this, dear Arthur," Eames said.

To finish it out, Eames threw in a few snide comments on statuses and a handful of friend requests to random people. He also poked all seven hundred and thirteen of those already on the list.

At that moment he heard Arthur's footsteps. Eames closed the window and the laptop, stood up, and resumed his place at the corner of the table.

Arthur returned to find his computer exactly as he left it, and Eames picking at his cuticles.

"You didn't touch it?" Arthur asked as he sat down.

"Of course not," Eames smiled. "Well, I suppose I should return to work. Good luck with your research, Tanisha."

Arthur paused. "What?"

Eames chuckled. "Oh, nothing."

* * *

**Funnily enough, I got the names from Facebook. But that was coincidence. Go ahead and look 'em up, it's pretty entertaining-although if you want a disclaimer, they aren't mine either. Hope you enjoyed, R&R!**


End file.
